User blog comment:Biggren/The Northern March Original/@comment-3135907-20170110030234/@comment-3135907-20170523194812

The river at their back and the wood at the fore, the four enemies seemed to forget one another as the tree rats broke cover, spears hurled and crude stone blades drawn. The first rat to reach them, a villainous looking green and red affair, raised his spear and prepared to bring death to the dreams of the fox captain who had come so far.

Then, just as suddenly, he wasn't. The Painted One died with a barbaric shriek, tumbled down the bank past the four, and rolled into the brook.

Feffle swung a fist and took down the second comer where he stood, hopping back, clutching his paw and shouting a purple streak. "Tchah! Blazin' boulder for a head, flippin' rotter sortie."